


An Unlikely Martyr

by unholygrass



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anxiety, Blood, Emotions, Gen, Insomnia, Late Night Conversations, Moral Dilemmas, Not Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 05:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13968081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unholygrass/pseuds/unholygrass
Summary: At least he knows she doesn't really want him dead.orPidge runs into Lotor on the ship late at night and rambles for a moment.





	An Unlikely Martyr

**Author's Note:**

> So if you're like me you absolutely loved how badass Pidge was in season 5. Her willingness to just fucking hand over Lotor was great and it was good to see her be a little heartless and cold. That shit probably happens a lot during war and it makes sense that she would be that way a little. I really like the idea of Lotor finding respect for Pidge after he sees all that she's capable of even though she's so small and yeah I dunno I wrote this.

She’d do it again. Sacrificing Lotor had given her father a chance at life, and she’d make that decision again. If the Galra walked up to her with a knife to her father’s throat and asked politely for Lotor’s presence, she’d shove the prince forward and make grabby motions towards her father all over again. 

 

But she’d feel like shit for it. Maybe that’s what she’s feeling now. Is she feeling guilty? Or just shitty? Maybe it’s not guilt. Maybe she just feels like an awful person. 

 

She hopes that’s the answer to her current insomnia, because she really can’t afford to stay awake much longer. The Big Bad Galran were defeated once again, and they had a few days of loll in activity. Everyone had split apart after returning from Olkarion, but she knows not everyone is asleep. She gave herself administrative access to the castle’s mainframe months ago, and from it she can see who is on any sort of tablet or who even has their lights on. Hunk and Lance both seemed to be sleeping, Allura was on the bridge with Coran, and Shiro was in Black’s hangar doing... whatever he did when he was brooding. Matt was currently with the rebel groups, and her Father had just left.  

 

And Lotor was... in the large hub that servants used to use back when the castle was a social hangout. She has no idea what he’s up to. She’s partially surprised that it seemed as though Allura and Shiro had given him free reign of the castle despite the fact that they him locked up less than eight hours ago. They weren’t even trying to keep an eye on him... though she is not the only one on the admin account, so maybe they were keeping tabs on him after all. 

 

She flung the blankets off her legs violently, sighing and lugging herself out of her comfortable Altean bed. She cussed when her foot landed on a sheet of metal that she had cut off of a communicator radio that she was scrapping for parts, and fell back onto the bed to see if she’d actually managed to cut herself or not. She brought her foot up as close to her face as she could, squinting in the faint light emitted from her glistening fairy lights. A trickle of blood stained her hand, and she cussed again. She’d have to bandage it or risk getting blood on her treasured Rizario blankets. She’d bought them in Olkarion only two weeks ago after being informed by Ryner that they were the heaviest and softest blankets she knew of— they were supposed to be transported from a planet named Rizo and woven by hand by some sort of blanket gods— Pidge wasn’t sure exactly what she’d been told, but Ryner seemed to like them and for good reason. They were some damn soft blankets. 

 

She really didn’t want to get blood on them. 

 

She also really didn’t want to get up. 

 

She groaned loudly and flopped back against the mattress, keeping her bloodied foot hanging off the bed and closed her eyes again. 

 

Fucking insomnia and fucking feet and fucking inability to keep her floor clean. 

 

A few minutes later finds her meandering down the halls, one foot walking on tiptoes to keep from leaving bloody streaks all over the floors that would have Allura both angry at the mess and concerned for the blood. That was far too much commotion that she didn’t need to deal with. She’d just pop into the infirmary, grab a few bandages, and be on her way. 

 

The only problems were that the infirmary was all the way across the castle (a fifteen minute walk on a foot that wanted to leave its stain absolutely everywhere) and most importantly  _ was only accessible through the hub that Lotor was currently holed up in.  _

 

That realization alone is almost enough to stop her walking. Stupid Lotor was the only reason she was awake in the first place, and therefore the only reason she had even cut her foot. She couldn’t stop thinking about how willing she had been to send him to his death. How she still  _ was  _ willing to do so if it meant saving her family. Had she lost sight of her morals so quickly? She valued life in its most simplest forms. It was something she had told herself in the beginning to hold onto. She had few material possessions, few people knew her name, and she was going to probably die out in an intergalactic spacewar. Her morals were something that she alone held and fought to keep. People, animals, hell even bugs were special when you were floating through space with no one but five robotic cats and your teammates to keep you company. She supposes the respect for life was also a byproduct from Green, who broadcasted her role as protector of the forest onto her. The forest contained life— and that made it hers to preserve. 

 

But she had been willing to send Lotor to his death without even blinking. Had fought for it really. She had given her father’s life more merit than Lotor’s, despite Allura’s very important point that allying with Lotor could possibly save the lives of millions of enslaved people. She was blinded by love— if you could call it that. It hadn’t been love that she’d been feeling when the moment to decide who lived and who died came down to it. She’d been terrified and desperate, hurt and angry, but not fueled by love, and certainly not fueled by compassion ( _ Oh please— he’s just trying to save his own skin).  _ She had a certain coldness to her that came with being at war for nearly a year (or more— they’d tried to keep track at first, but the days got lost and the time zones were always changing), and she knew that she was becoming tougher, but the thought of losing her compassion and empathy scared her wittless. 

 

But how was she supposed to act? Was she supposed to sacrifice her father to the Galra? Was that expected of her? 

 

She wants to think no, that can’t be expected of her. She was fifteen— it was her  _ family.  _ He was her father— one of the most important part of her life. She was only human, and that meant loving people and having emotions and  _ feeling  _ things. Sure she wasn’t as in touch with her emotions as some of her teammates, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have them. 

 

It’s when she goes down that train of thought that she has to pause. 

 

Maybe it  _ was  _ expected of her. She was a paladin of Voltron; a defender of the universe and one of the last lines of defense against Zarkon’s tyrannical reign. She had stepped into space without a second thought, and while she may have not known what exactly she had gotten herself into right away, there had been several chances for her to walk away; to say no more, to abandon her post and let someone else step up and take her place. 

 

Instead she had accepted the responsibility and stepped forward. She had bonded with her lion and acknowledged that her death in this war was not just a possibility, but a probability. She had put her own aspirations for the future away and set aside her dreams. Going to college, meeting a partner, settling down, having a family— they were small things that she figured while she didn’t particularly dwell on she would probably end up getting around to them eventually. Setting those thoughts aside to fight her best fight had been unnervingly easy, and she had done so without much struggle. She was content learning as she was— hands on as she went, flying by the seat of her pants to survive and save as many people as possible while experiencing the best technology and erudition that existed in the infinite universe. 

 

She had already handed away the traditional parts of her life, but maybe that wasn’t all that was required. 

 

She was one of billions of people simply on Earth who were at risk. Adding the rest of the universe sent the numbers into incomprehensible levels. 

 

Maybe she  _ was  _ supposed to sacrifice her morals as well, simply so that none of the other billions of peoples did not have to. She was the chosen one to pilot Green, but maybe that made her a martyr as well. Her life no longer translated into simple terms. Her life had long ago become worth the billions of people who she was protecting; her morals may have been nothing but a threat to them. 

 

All at once she realizes she is standing in front of the door to the hub. Apparently she had continued to stumble along during her philosophy session. She had planned on abandoning going to the medical bay once she learned that she would have to pass Lotor to get there, but now she was here and it really didn’t make sense to go back to her room without a bandage. 

 

Except she would have to see him, and she really didn’t want to deal with that awkward encounter, even if they didn’t so much as look at each other. She sighed in frustration and let her head fall forward to thump against the wall outside the door. It was the middle of the night cycle— why the hell was she having to deal with social interaction?

 

Lotor didn’t deserve to be sentenced to death. She had already established that, so she didn’t have to feel bad about condemning him ( _ Except that she already had. To his face.)  _ and she should just be a fucking adult and walk into the room, go to the medical bay, and go back to her room. If he looked at her that was his fault for being awake ( _ Or did Galrans sleep like they do? He was half Altean, and Allura and Coran slept like the dead. She decided it need more research.)  _ and he could just deal with it. 

 

Mind made up, she entered the code to open the door and walked into the room, sight already on the door that led to the medical bay. 

 

Except her feet betray her entirely and something short circuits in her mind and  _ fuck she’s never going to be able to fall asleep without talking to him  _ and suddenly she’s standing right in front of him, dressed in a pair of Keith’s sleeping pants and her sweater, hair sticking out from wild angles and blood dripping down the sole of her foot. 

 

He hadn’t looked up when she’d entered, but now she has stolen his attention away from whatever he was typing away at on the hologram display in front of him— some sort of Altean cheat code from the looks of it— and she finds his sharp yellow eyes focused directly on her. It’s unsettling how put together he looks even late at night, hair swept behind his shoulders and armor still intact. She briefly wonders if he sleeps in it. The paladins had a habit of shedding their flight suits like fucking snakes the second the opportunity to change presented itself, and yet he looks comfortable and poised in it, like it was simply a second skin. 

 

She blinks at him and wonders how long her mind has been wandering. He hasn’t spoken. She’s not good at this. She wonders what he’s thinking. 

 

His eyes break away from her face and move to the floor at her feet. He breaks the silence. 

 

“Did you know you are bleeding all over the floor?” 

 

Oh yeah. She picks up her foot with a frown. She had managed not to smear too much blood around on the walk over, but she had forgotten not to put her foot fully down in light of speaking to the former enemy. Son of a bitch. 

 

“Yeah— that’s why I’m here. Well not  _ here here, _ but like— here.” Nailed it Katie. Keep talking. It’s obviously doing you a lot of good. “Look I came because the bandages are down this hall and you happen to be in my way—” No, that’s inaccurate. He was not in the way, he just happened to be there. He looks briefly to the door of the medical bay, face unchanging and unreadable. “But I had to stop and tell you something.” Not really. There’s not much to tell; just that she’s a kid in a war and can’t fucking sleep because she can’t figure out her moral dilemma that he had a part in but was not responsible for. “I would do it again.” Yep. Would kill you over again. Killing it Katie. “But I feel bad about being willing to kill you. Well— not kill you, but being willing to hand you over to Zarkon who would have killed you.” She wonders what she sounds like. Does she sound possessed, because she’s rambling and her lips won’t stop moving and this is why she should never interact with anyone ever ever again. 

 

She sucks in a deep breath. He looks confused. “I chose my father’s life over your life and I don’t like that I was willing to do that. It wasn’t right. I mean— I don’t like you, and it was my father, but it wasn’t my choice to make? If you know what I mean.” No. He probably didn’t. “It’s just that it was a lot all at once and it just seemed like the only choice but I was condemning you to death and maybe a bunch of other people too and that’s wrong—”

 

He’s still looking at her weird. She should leave. She should stop talking. Oh my god she needs to stop talking. She snaps her mouth shut, fully aware that she’s made a total fool of herself, but she hasn’t said the most important part yet. 

 

“Look.” She takes a deep shaky breath that rattles her chest. “I don’t trust you yet, but I don’t want you dead. It may seem like I want you dead, but I don't. There.” She finishes. Rocking back on her heels and smearing a fresh glob of blood on the floor, she turns quickly and makes a break for the medical bay, slipping inside the door and disappearing from sight before she can see the reaction on Lotor’s face. 

 

She spends at least twenty minutes wrapping her foot, going about it slower and methodically, hoping that if she wastes enough time acting like nothing happened then maybe Lotor will forget about it too and she’ll be able to escape without having to interact with him again. She washes her hands and puts a tentative pressure down on her injured foot, pleased when the bandages hold and she is free to walk normally once again. 

 

She stands at the threshold for another four minutes, working up the nerve to step back out and make her way back to her room. It takes some internal pep talks and eventually she only does so after fully lying to herself about how little she cares what he may think of her. 

 

She walks out into the hub again, shoulders back and hands deep in her pockets while she shuffles along, eyes set on the door and absolutely not on the prince who was once again absorbed in his hologram display. 

 

She almost makes it out the door when his voice stops her. “Morals and Family are dangerous concepts during war.” She turned where she stood to face him. His long fingers were still tapping at the display and he wasn't looking at her. “They can be turned into a weapon more powerful than any physical pain.” His fingers stilled and all at once he swept the screen away entirely, leaving her facing him in his full stance. She willed herself not to look away from his eye contact. “But so long as one is aware of that threat, morals and family must remain at the top of all peoples’ priority. Preparedness can overcome almost any peril. ”

 

It took her a moment to process all of his words. “You really believe that family has to hold top rank?” There’s disbelief in her tone that she knows he will pick up on. 

 

“For myself? No. I do not have a family, and I’m not sure I would know what to do with one should I have it. For you? Absolutely. There is no better soldier than the soldier fighting for what lies waiting for him back home.” He stood up. “But it will never be black and white, and there will never be an solution to every dilemma you will face.” 

 

She nodded at what he had to say, entire mind reeling from his rather stable and understanding viewpoint on an issue that was certainly not his to deal with. She didn’t know him, sure, but she could make accurate enough assumptions based on what she knew of his past. A prince who was outcasted almost immediately and raised by two homicidal parents— both of whom now wanted him dead.

 

Well that kind of history just didn’t spell out a healthy developmental mindset. 

 

But as he stood in front of her now, she supposed maybe she had a lot to learn about him, even if she didn’t fully trust him yet. A part of her wanted to believe he was just trying to win her trust, smooth talking her into liking him.

 

It was working. Sort of.

 

He was still an invader on their castle, but at least now it didn’t feel like she was going to have to be on high alert as to where he was simply to avoid running into him. His words felt sincerre, and she supposed only time would tell if her feelings were right. 

 

At least he knew she didn’t want him dead. That was a definite improvement. 

 

He sat back down and pulled up his code again, and she turned to leave before hesitating. 

 

“If you use a Poke program on the sixth line you’ll reduce your buffer speed by a power of four.” She mentions off handedly, eyeing his code. 

 

This actually made him pause. “You can read that backwards and still see the error that quickly?” 

 

Ah— finally. A topic she could dominate in. “They keep me around for a reason.” She grinned. Feeling accomplished as he eyed his code and seemed to realize she was correct in her advice, she relished in the look on his face before finally escaping back towards her room.

 

Maybe she’d be able to sleep tonight after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Please Review!


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